


Unnatural Bones

by May



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Uncanny Valley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 20:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/May/pseuds/May
Summary: She smiles too broadly, showing teeth that she shouldn’t have.
Relationships: Nikola Orsinov/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2019





	Unnatural Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StormyDaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/gifts).

She smiles too broadly, showing teeth she shouldn’t have. She doesn’t need them to be sharp to be able to give a predator’s grin. Embedded unnaturally in her plastic skull, they might not have even been hers to begin with.

“You,” she says. “You have nice skin. You take much better care of it than the archivist does his.”

She drags her fingers lightly down Tim’s cheeks, their cool feel making him shudder. Curling one knuckle under his chin, she tilts his head upwards.

“It’s lovely,” she says. “I love it when you’re thoughtful like that. A nice new outfit for one of us to wear. We hate walking around naked, and you all look so good naked.”

Tim knows more about the Stranger than he does any other power but, even if he didn’t, she’d still have an insidious monstrosity to her. She teeters on the edge of humanity, perched at the most disturbing point on the uncanny valley.

“All red, like plush velvet, and deliciously wet. Then you would sing so beautifully,” she says.

The position he’s in is one he’s enjoyed so many times and, if you took her parts individually, they might have made up somebody he might have been attracted to. Part of the problem was that she likely had taken those parts from people he might have been attracted to, the wet side of their skin pressed against her smooth plastic.

“So you’re going to skin me.” If Tim focuses on lacing his words with bitter spite, that might at least hide some of his fear. That extra layer of brittle armor might keep her from getting everything that she wants.

“Mmm, no, not yet.” 

As she crawls over him, it puts him in mind of articulated joints under rubbery, synthetic skin, if that skin wasn’t synthetic at all.

“It’s good to see how things fit together,” she says. “Hearts have tubes that slot into arteries. Stomachs plug into intestines. We know all about that. The things on top, well that just needs more research.”

She puts her hands on Tim, again, making every inch of him want to shrink away from her touch. It’s the skin, and the thing underneath the skin, and all of the teeth plugged into her jaw. He looks away as she pushes up his shirt, and focuses on the eggshell ceiling. He doesn’t have to imagine her hungry, glassy stare as she appraises him, and maybe he can ignore how she doesn’t have the blood to make her skin sanguine.

“I could wear you like a glove, though,” she says, tracing lines on his skin. “You would certainly suffer, and I’m sure you think that’s a shame.”

She counts his ribs, pokes his navel and runs her thumbs over his nipples, Tim’s dick stirs, as if it thinks its one of his usual encounters. She is going to find out, and the humiliation might not be the worst problem, here.

“Your skin has no seams.” He can’t stop himself from sneaking a glance. Her eyes glitter like marbles. “It’s amazing how the atoms all just slough together to make this smooth sheet of skin. Then it breaks and might never really fit right ever again.

The trill in her voice isn’t enough to make him lose his erection as she continues to explore him.

Tim holds his breath as she moves her hands to his belt, waiting for her sickly delight at the sight of his erection. She hums a repetitive tune, discordant over the click of his buckle and the sharp noise of his zipper being undone.

She springs him free, and the sweltering air does him no favours where his dick is concerned.

“Hmmm,” she muses. She runs her cool fingertip up and down his dick, and Tim shivers, and he isn’t sure what part of this whole thing he’s shivering at the most. “How interesting! I don’t think I’ve ever got around to really investigating this.”

She slides her pointed finger to the tip, and makes circles there around his hole. When she starts smearing the pre-come, Tim goes back to staring at the ceiling. He cannot look at this. If he survives, he might want to blink, again.

“Well!” she says. “I know what happens next.”

She leaves his dick to the warm room as she crawls off the bed. He can hear the sound of clothing rustling, then falling to the floor. He closes his eyes; he does not want to see her naked, to see how she fits together. Whether she’s parts snapped and stitched together awkwardly, or just plastic-smooth.

He swallows against the idea of knowing how she feels on the inside. He does not want to know whether she steals skin for the inside, too, and where the joins are between membranes and plastic.

She climbs back onto the bed, tittering, and Tim makes his body rigid as the bed shifts with her movement. He can feel the unnatural bones of her hand when she grabs the base of his dick. She starts humming to herself as she moves and Tim focuses on a crack in the ceiling as the folds of her cunt touch the tip of his dick.

Inside, she’s clammy and gelid, and Tim swallows a whimper of disgust. His erection is beginning to wilt. He might not have to fuck her, but it brings him a little closer to being skinned.

But she clamps down around him before he can soften enough, some hard part of her skeleton making a vice in her cunt. Tim screams, raw and aching. It’s a scream that’s been there all along. She just laughs, that awful delight in full throttle.

“Do you want to escape?” she says. “You can’t. But you are going to get the chance to be better.”

She rocks back and forth, yanking him by the base of his dick along with her. Tim grits his teeth and swallows his screams, blinking back his tears. He doesn’t look at her moving on top of him, doesn’t see her mechanical push and pull. He can’t even bring himself to pretend that he’s fucking somebody preferable. Literally anyone. The vice-grip of her cunt keeps bringing him back around.

He’s too soft right now to come inside a mannequin, so there’s nothing to stop the eternal up and down and forwards and backwards. She starts singing again, a discordant merry-go-round tune from a voice box that isn’t hers.


End file.
